


Revelations

by tielan



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Canon, Friendship, Gen, Magic Revealed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-27
Updated: 2011-08-27
Packaged: 2017-10-23 02:56:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/245528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tielan/pseuds/tielan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gwen finds out about Merlin when she arranges to bring him food while he's being hunted.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Revelations

**Author's Note:**

> his is essentially some wishful thinking on my part for 2.06; the episode will almost certainly Joss me; I just felt like writing it. :)

The stairs down seem endless, stone tread after stone tread echoing with her footsteps as Gwen makes her way beneath the castle. The torch in her hand flickers and the basket grows heavy, but Merlin asked her to meet him at sunset.

Sunset was some time ago; the last streaks of daylight are fading from the sky above even now. But here, in the cold earth under Camelot, there is little light and no sky, no way to tell the hours.

Gwen excused herself from Morgana's presence as the sun began to sink into the forest tips, and Morgana let her go with no comment other than, "Be back to attend me later, please, Gwen." Nothing was said about Merlin - nothing needed to be said; the Queen was still in a rage about her missing seal and absent from dinner, and the King's ire matches his new wife's at the trespass.

If trespass there was at all.

At least Merlin hasn't yet been found. Arthur instigated the search for him, but there's been no sign of him - nothing since he caught Gwen's arm and told her to meet him behind the stables that evening. And when Gwen passed Arthur and his knights in the corridors, his gaze flickered to hers and he nodded, just once.

Whatever Merlin is accused of; Arthur doesn't believe it - has taken steps to prevent his father's will from holding sway.

Just as he went against his father's will to seek her out at Hengist's castle.

A small curl of pleasure rises, warm as the steam from a soup pot; Gwen pushes it aside, unwilling to open that box again. Arthur Pendragon is a good man, will be a good king even through his faults. He is not for a mere servant girl, and she will not encourage that hope again.

Instead, she focuses on her descent.

The steps are uneven as she descends, the treads are rough-hewn from the stone of the ground, yet above her head, the curve of the tunnel ceiling is smooth, fine as any of the walls in the main castle. Beyond the flickering circle of the torch, the darkness is absolute, pressing towards her, but always repelled by the light. A musty, musky smell begins to pervade the air, and she wrinkles her nose at the stench of it.

What could make such a rank smell, so strong, so absolute?

Each step adds another question, intrigue upon curiosity. By the time she reaches the rough-hewn tunnel that leads even deeper into the darkness, Gwen does not know if she could turn around and go back - not with the weight of questions pressing upon her.

The murmurs start after the second turn - the faint and distant sounds of someone speaking.

 _Merlin?_

Gwen keeps walking, but more cautiously now. The voice seems too deep and resonant to be Merlin's - and it's coming from a long way off.

" _You should not have lifted the protections on the doorway, young warlock. Your recklessness might yet cost you your life._ "

Protections? Young warlock? And then, a few moments later, Gwen hears the same voice, speaking again. " _That may be. My interest is not solely in your promise to free me._ "

It's one side of a conversation; the second person inaudible to her ears, while the first sounds like an elderly man, a courtier, faintly petulant at being thwarted.

" _Gwen's not the kind to talk,_ " says a familiar voice distantly, and Gwen feels a rush of relief upon hearing Merlin. He sounds the same as ever; perhaps a little more defensive, as though he's just been arguing with Arthur. " _And I need to hear about what's happening in the castle._ "

" _The prince would have been a better choice._ "

" _The prince isn't ready to know._ "

" _Or perhaps it is you who is not ready for him to know, young warlock. Have you considered that?_ "

This time, the hesitation lasts a little longer on Merlin's part, even as Gwen reels from what this conversation means. " _Yes. I've considered it. I'd still pick Gwen._ "

" _Very well. You will have your chance to see if you chose right; she is coming now._ "

A moment later, there's a scramble of footsteps, and Merlin's voice echoes, close and present. "Gwen?"

"Merlin!" She lets him take the basket from her hand. "Are you okay? What is this place? Who are you talking to?" Questions tumble from her lips and she can feel her cheeks heating.

He smiles a little - that faint, deprecating smile that so charmed her the first time she met him - holds out his hand to her, and waits for her to take it. "Come. I want you to meet someone."

Gwen swallows; nervousness has come upon her. The curiosity that's brought her this far is deserting her, but the hand that Merlin stretches out to her is a reassuring anchor in the sea of her sudden uncertainty.

She takes it, and feels his fingers squeeze her palm, light and reassuring.

Merlin moves through this tunnel with familiarity, knowing every turn and crevice, knowing every rise and fall of the rough floor until they turn a corner and pass through an archway out onto a small ledge. The ledge reaches out into a great cavern, like a defiant tongue stretched out towards...

The dragon rises above her, high as the king's balcony, if not higher. Its wingspan is surely great enough to encompass the castle courtyard, and its monstrous, scaly head looks down at her with an eye as large as her head - an eye that regards her with sharp intelligence. She thinks it can see how her heart pounds in her chest and her breath comes short; how she wants to turn around and run all the way back up to the surface and forget.

But that would be cowardly and unworthy of who she wants herself to be.

So she takes the step out onto the ledge beside Merlin, holds her head high, and looks the dragon in the eye as though she has the right to stare such a creature down. And as the dragon inclines its head to her in welcome, Gwen feels something shift in the air - understanding, comprehension, the future, the past; and for a moment she can feel her destiny before her.

"Gwen, this is the great dragon."


End file.
